Blayne Lastman may
always be remembered as the man who brought Bill and
Hillary Clinton to Scarborough to sell furniture. Not the.Clintons, of course, but a
look-alike couple who appeared in newspaper and TV ads
promoting his Bad Boy Furniture & Appliances
Warehouse Ltd. Little did Lastman know that his stunt
would ruffle feathers at the White House, generate a
goldmine of publicity and confirm his self-imposed title
as the bad boy of Canadian retail.

A month after
Lastman hired a presidential double to sell sofas and
dining room sets in his late-night TV ads, a letter
arrived from the White House asking him to cease and
desist unauthorized use of the president's image.
Lastman's response? A cheeky new series of ads that also
featured a bogus First Lady. "Last time I
checked," says Lastman, "this was Canada, not
the 51st state."

Click Above To
See a Legible Version of the White House Letter

It's that kind of
spunk, along with a penchant for outrageous promotions,
that has driven the success of Bad Boy. Whether it's his
in-your-face ads or in-store extravaganzas with superstar
wrestlers, Lastman's aim is to stand out from the crowd.
Although best known for his bizarre TV appearances as a
nerdy character dressed in prison stripes, underneath
that public persona lies a savvy and innovative marketer
who's selling millions of dollars in furniture to a
carefully-targeted niche.

Of course it
doesn't hurt that the Lastman name itself turns heads in
Toronto. Blayne's father is the flamboyant Mel Lastman,
mayor of suburban North York. After 23 years in office,
the Guinness Book of Records. considers Mel the
longest-running mayor ever. Moreover, Bad Boy was the
name of the Ontario-wide furniture and appliance chain
Mel launched as a hungry entrepreneur himself 40 years
ago.

The Lastmans have
a bent for colorful promotions, but in private the
34-year-old Blayne bears little resemblance to the manic
jailbird he plays in commercials. Pleasant, quiet, even a
little modest, he's an experienced businessman given to
making decisions based on intuition and business smarts.
He was so confident in his ability to succeed that he
gave up a lucrative job and defied the advice of experts
- including Dad - to launch Bad Boy in 1991, in the midst
of the worst recession in most people's memory. "I
can't explain it," says Lastman. "I just knew
the time was right." Four years later, his
confidence has been rewarded. Bad Boy's two Toronto-area
stores ring up annual sales of $25 million.

Lastman's strategy
was simple: he would offer customers both "the
sizzle and the steak." He would attract customers
with eye-opening promotions and then sell them
old-fashioned price and service. "It's the 'field of
dreams' theory," he explains, as if it were easy.
"Give the right prices and the right merchandise,
and the people will come."

That anyone is
coming in to Bad Boy at all is all the more remarkable
given the overall state of the furniture and appliance
industry. Retail consultant Len Kubas of Toronto's Kubas
Consultants says the declining housing market has
dampened activity in big-ticket items. "It's meant
anyone selling furniture has to be far more aggressive
and creative." But the secret lies in knowing who
your customers are and how to reach them. And Kubas says
Lastman is a master at reaching his target market - blue
collar workers. Lastman's aim was to capture a mass
audience that looks for comfortable, affordable furniture
and easy terms to boot.

It's the same
market his father went after with the original store.
Under Mel's guiding hand, Bad Boy became a fixture on the
Toronto landscape for more than twenty years. The senior
Lastman was also famous for offering customers $2 bills
for $1 or walking down Yonge St. in a mini-skirt. The
chain eventually grew to include 45 stores throughout
southern Ontario. But in 1975, choosing to concentrate on
politics, Lastman sold the chain to a consortium of
companies, including retailer Factory Carpet - which
would run the chain - and the Toronto Dominion Bank. Some
11 months later, Bad Boy was bankrupt. Mel Lastman
insists Bad Boy was sound when he sold out, and blames
its demise on mismanagement: "You can't sell
furniture and appliances the same way you sell
broadloom."

Although Blayne
was just 14 when his father sold Bad Boy, he was already
bitten by the retail bug. "I hung out at the store,
walked around with Dad, attended sales," he says.
"It was a very, very exciting company." Long
after it sold, Blayne knew he wanted to bring it back.

Indeed, furniture
seems to run in the family. After graduating from
Toronto's York University with a degree in economics,
Blayne intended to pursue his MBA. He was sidetracked
when Toronto furniture manufacturer King Koil Ltd.
offered him a job selling its products on the road in
southern Ontario. A year later, he left to become an
independent manufacturer's rep, selling furniture for
seven companies. Although he was earning in excess of
$350,000 a year, Lastman says he never enjoyed the road,
and retail remained his first love.

Lastman had toyed
with the idea of reviving Bad Boy since university. But
the timing wasn't right and, ironically, Canada's largest
furniture warehouse, The Brick, had acquired the rights
to the Bad Boy name. But The Brick never used it, and
after waiting the required seven years Lastman picked it
up once again. He and two long-time friends put up
$500,000 to launch Bad Boy in November, 1991. They
figured their passion could beat the recession. "We
believed the name was strong, we believed that our drive
and hunger was greater than anyone else's, and that we'd
succeed," says Lastman. "We believed that our
marketing was going to work."

Not everyone was
so optimistic. Although he was distraught when Bad Boy
originally went under - to the point where he even tried
to buy it back - Mel Lastman was on of the first to
question his son's desire to revive the chain. "I
thought he was totally out of his mind," says Mel.
"He was making good money and the economy was
horrible. I said, 'Blayne, not now'."

Despite his
initial reluctance, Mel Lastman remains one of Blayne's
biggest supporters. Indeed, political foes have been
quick to criticize His Worship's appearances in Bad Boy
ads. For his part, Mel says his cameos are nothing more
than a father helping a son. And to the critics? "I
say, 'screw you'," declares Lastman. "I help
people all the time. I'd never helped my son before. I
don't want to look back someday and wish I'd helped
him."

Blayne Lastman,
President of Bad Boy Furniture & Appliances Ltd.

Once
his store opened, along a crowded furniture strip in
suburban Scarborough, Blayne set out to tell the world.
To go head-to-head with furniture retailing giants such
as The Brick and Leon's, he says, "It's was very
important not to look small-time." His strategy was
to take his "one store and make it look like
100."

To do
that, he launched a series of advertisements on radio and
TV, and took out double-page spreads inThe Toronto
Sun. - the archetypal blue-collar medium.
Unable to afford prime-time space, he set out to
monopolize fringe airtime - day time and late night. He
secured reduced rates for 52-week contracts, and his
quirky ads now run continuously during the day and
through the night. His year-long contract also entitles
him to bonus airtime, which he claims during prime time.
"We owned fringe time," Lastman declares.
"We knew we couldn't compete with the giants, so we
had to be innovative. We had to be different."

The
bad boy has never looked back. In 1992 he and partner
Marvin Kirsh bought out their third partner. The two also
opened a second store across town, which Kirsh oversees,
and a central distribution warehouse. And the store's
breathless slogan, "Who's better than Bad Boy?
Nooobody!" has taken on a life of its own. Indeed,
you'd be hard-pressed to find any Torontonian who
couldn't repeat the Bad Boy mantra. Lastman credits his
dad for the concept. Blayne had been searching for a
memorable slogan. Six months before opening Bad Boy, he
got a late-night call from Mel, who was vacationing in
Florida. "I've got it," said his father.
"Nooobody. With three Os. Not with one, not with
two, but three Os. It's going to work. It's
fantastic." It was crazy, Blayne admits, but his gut
told him it could work. "I believed we could make
the "Nooobody" into the biggest thing,"
says Lastman. "And it got bigger than I could have
ever imagined."

In
rapid succession came a string of ads and celebrity
promotions. Along with the Clintons, Lastman has co-opted
Toronto Maple Leafs coach Pat Burns and Dick Assman, the
Saskatchewan gas station owner who found instant - albeit
- brief - celebrity last summer when late-night TV host
David Letterman fell in love with his name. Each has been
recruited for ads and in-store appearances. "Assman
was amazing," says Lastman. "You'd have thought
the Queen was arriving at Bad Boy." And when 3,000
people lined up around the block for an autograph session
with World Wrestling Federation superstar Razor Ramone,
Lastman says his employees spent more time acting as
security guards than selling furniture. Still, Ramone's
two-hour appearance at Bad Boy boosted sales that day by
30%.

Tim Waters
plays the Sax for the crowds.

But
it was the Bill Clinton promotion - and the ensuing
brouhaha - that got people talking. Lastman had caught
presidential look-alike Tim Waters on TV. "Something
just clicked," he says. "I saw him on Geraldo
on Friday, spoke to his agent on Monday. On Thursday we
flew him up here from Tampa to shoot the commercials, and
he went home on Friday." The bogus Clinton uttered
only one word in the spot - "Nooobody!",
naturally - but a month later Lastman received the
warning from the White House. Lastman's reaction? "I
saw heaven for the first time." The Toronto Sun. published the story on the
front page the next day, and Lastman, knowing an
opportunity when he saw it, responded with a series of
ads featuring both Bill and Hillary look-alikes.
"The media attention that followed was almost
overwhelming," Lastman says. He found himself
fielding calls from newspapers and TV stations around the
world, including the CBC, The Wall Street Journal,
Dateline NBC, and Entertainment Tonight. "All of a
sudden we became a national company," says Lastman.
The next month, sales rose 40%. And Bad Boy is still
reaping the rewards. "People still mention the
Clintons," says Lastman. "The Clintons brought
this company millions and millions of dollars worth of
business."

Tim Waters,
Blayne Lastman, and Elaine Kouba

And
the promotions keep coming. Last Thanksgiving, Lastman
gave away free turkeys to the first 100 people into the
store. Month-long extravaganzas in conjunction with the
likes of Pizza Pizza and grocery giant Loblaws feature
in-store giveaways such as $50 gift certificates or free
pizzas for a year to customers. The cost to Bad Boy is
minimal, says Lastman, because he uses his booked airtime
to cross-promote these products. "People think we're
nuts. But the cash registers are ringing."

All
told, Bad Boy spends close to $1 million a year on
marketing. Lastman works with a home-based advertising
consultant on all of Bad Boy's print and TV spots. Using
freelance camera operators, he says, helps keep
production costs to a minimum. Bad Boy spends just $2,000
to $3,500 to create each spot.

Blayne
himself is behind all of the hype and hoopla at Bad Boy.
He's an ideas man who also relates well to people. Mel
calls his son a "natural communicator." Blayne
believes his knack for knowing what touches his customers
comes from spending seven days a week at Bad Boy,
overseeing everything from marketing to buying to
selling. "If you've got a pulse, if you're on that
floor, if you're involved, your gut will tell you
everything you need to know."

Promotions
aside, Lastman says his edge is twofold: his hands-on
management style and the strength of the Bad Boy name.
"We can be so flexible. We can react in seconds. I
can make decisions quickly because I'm hands-on." he
says. "The advertising, the marketing, the buying
will always be hands-on." In addition, he says,
people know and respect the Bad Boy name. "We're
that old family friend. They know us, they like us and
they trust us."

Once
he gets customers in the store, Lastman hits them with
the "steak": low prices and bend-over-backward
service. Mel Lastman says his son won't let anyone out of
the store without buying something. And Bad Boy's
inventory turnover, at nine times a year, or about three
time the industry average, seems to confirm that.

Bad
Boy advertises the lowest prices in Canada and the U.S.
To defend that claim, Lastman has employees checking
competitors' prices daily. He says his lower prices
reflect his negotiating abilities with his suppliers.
That plus the fact that "we are giving manufacturers
$2-million orders." Issie Rose, sales manager for
Mississauga, Ont.'s Edgewood Furniture Ltd., has sold its
couches and sofa beds to both generations of Bad Boys.
Rose says he's always had a positive and productive
relationship with Lastman. "His word is his
bond," he says. "When he places an order, it
belongs to him."

If
customers find Bad Boy's prices too high, Lastman will
always negotiate. "If a customer comes in and makes
a reasonable offer, we'll take it." A salesman
starts every sale but a closer - usually a manager - sees
it through to its final stage. "Whether it's price,
delivery, or hauling away a customer's old
furniture," says Lastman, "whatever it is we'll
do it to make the sale." He says it's a system
unique to Bad Boy, although it's adopted from his
father's days. Lastman says he's found that a new face is
usually able to close the deal, probably because a closer
has the authority to reduce price or haggle over other
conditions.

Still,
"price is the easy part," Lastman says. He
believes the store's hallmark is its knowledgeable staff,
so service is something he hammers into his employees
seven days a week. Staff train for three months at Bad
Boys's central warehouse learning about products, pricing
and customer service. They also attend product knowledge
meetings each morning, and visit manufacturers' premises
at least twice a month. Still, Lastman admits that Bad
Boy's first year was dominated by a revolving door for
employees. "But now we've got a great team, he says.
"People who care about the company almost as much as
I do."

In a
never-ending quest to stay ahead of the pack, a new
series of Bad Boy ads featuring a computer-animated Bad
Boy debuted last December. It looks a little like the
Pillsbury Doughboy, but Lastman says, "It's unique.
Its in tune with the times." The ad coincided with
Disney's release ofToy Story., the first
full-length computer-animated film. "That's what
makes us different from the others."

Despite the industry's lackluster
performance, Lastman says his store hasn't felt the
pinch. In fact, he claims November and December of 1995
were Bad Boy's best months ever. And he says 1995 profits
rose 20% over 1994. With that kind of base, Lastman is
charging ahead. He expects to open two new Bad Boy stores
in 1996, in Whitby and North York. And within five years
he plans to have 10 stores in greater Toronto, five of
them franchised. He sees it as a win-win strategy.
"Our plan would be to take medium-sized operators,
good stable companies, and turn them into Bad Boy
superstores."

Despite numerous invitations to take
his concept south of the border, Lastman says he has no
intention of growing Bad Boy across Canada - or even
Ontario. He's content to keep operations in his own back
yard - where he knows and understands the market.

But then, he has help. On Saturday
afternoons you'll often find Mel Lastman on the floor at
Bad Boy, spending time with his son, or walking around
chatting up customers. "It was his first love,"
says Blayne. "He loves the store." Starting the
business seems to have paid an unexpected dividend:
Blayne believes it's brought him closer to his father. In
fact, he won't rule out following his father's footsteps
into politics one day. Showbiz is in his blood.